A Battle of Reflections
by the-vampire-act
Summary: Oneshot; Spencer's having nightmares again, but when he has one at work he finally decides to get help from a friend.


**A/N: I'm not too thrilled with the ending, but I'm going to be out of town all next week and wanted to get this out pronto! Unedited. **

**Battle of Reflections**

_Loneliness is a horrible, horrible thing. It is crippling at the least, killing at the most. _

_-Author Unknown_

Spencer Reid sat down on the couch with a sigh. What he was doing wasn't exactly a happy thing, so he felt it was appropriate. Considering the fact the he wouldn't even be on that couch if it hadn't been for him waking up screaming at his desk, the sigh was in fact more than appropriate.

"So, how does this work?" Spencer frowned. It was an obvious, stupid question, but he felt it was worth being asked anyways.

"_Wherever you need to, Spencer." _

"Wherever I need to," Spencer scoffed back. The words were stupid and useless, a pattern the young agent had started noticing for a while. Those phrases had only started when the nightmares had. But when had the nightmare started? _Why _had it started?

"I'm having this dream…."

"_Dream? Not dreams?" _

"Yes, it's just the same dream over and over again…but more intense every time." There was no point in lying. He was confident that no one else would be told his dream- or, at least, he hoped. "I'm at a table- round and wide- with six chairs around it. One chair's placed at the end of each 'side' and two on the sides. I'm sitting in one of the chairs at the head, I suppose you'd call it." Spencer stopped and pursed his lips. For the smallest moments his eyes flickered shut, the scene vivid behind the paled eyelids. As soon as the pictures became just a bit too realistic he snapped them back opened.

"_Is anyone at the table with you?" _

"No," Spencer frowned. For some reason it was almost an epiphany. Never had he paid much attention to that fact; it seemed irrelevant but now he realized it was practically the key to the dream. "But….but there is something else."

"_What is it?" _

The table flashed between his mind before it sharply focused in on the seat across from him. The tall, thin object stared at him with the least sincere expression he had ever seen. It was vicious and vile, greedy and hostile.

"It's a mirror," Spencer nearly whispered. His eyes stared blankly ahead in the expression everyone who knew him as a look of reflection. The young genius had sometimes been crippled by his own intelligence, and he often found himself lost in his thoughts Occasions like this, where his mind pushed him into throwing aside reality and forcing him to deal with what was on his mind.

"_Why would your company be a mirror? Do you have any thoughts?" _

Of course Spencer knew that was a subtle way of saying 'I know you've thought this through and probably already know why you were sharing a table with a mirror so please just spit it out.' He was a genius, after all. "I think," Spencer sighed, "we both know this answer to that."

"_Just say it. You know as well as I do that saying it out loud might help trigger something…." _

And of course he was right. Spencer new that, too, but it didn't mean he wouldn't try backing out of not telling him. So he just sighed and put his pride aside. He couldn't afford to hide the truth anymore. "The mirror shows me a memory every time I look at it," Spencer started slowly, hesitantly. "It's of pain that is still fresh in my mind…"

"_What do you mean, Spencer? Are they memories of pain?" _

"Exactly," he nodded. "Sometimes it's of Tobias Hankle, sometimes it's of my father leaving." The young man gulped as his mind jumped back to what he had seen in the mirror. Of course neither of those things were as bas as what he had seen when he had had the panic attack after waking up from his nightmare at work. He knew that his 'therapist' would catch on to that almost immediately, and he knew that meant he was screwed.

"_Please stop doing this, Spencer. It's not going to help you if you keep withholding information." _

Spencer nodded his head and sighed. He shouldn't be acting as difficult as he was to the other person. Spencer had asked for help, not the other way around. It was time to finally talk about his fear and try to deal with it. "I've been having these headaches lately…" He trailed off at the end of his sentence, obviously hoping for some sort of response from the other person.

"_I've noticed, yes."_

"….And they're starting to scare me," he silently admitted. "I know it's stupid to be afraid of them, but with my mother and all, it just…" Spencer frowned as he searched for a way to carefully word what his fear actually was. Being an FBI agent he had to be careful about what all he voiced out loud to people who could potentially be obliged to let the bureau know about….certain _things_. "It makes me wonder why I'm having them," he finally settled for.

"_I understand your concerns, Spencer. But I don't think worry is warranted quite yet. You've been to many different doctors about this, that much I do know. All of them say it's nothing physical they can find. You're an agent in the FBI. You've seen so many horrible things, and you've lost so many great friends. It's been a stressful year for you, and I can tell that you're stressed out." _

"This is the prime age for schizophrenic breaks to happen," Spencer sighed. "I know you don't think the headaches have to do with that, though. No one else does, anyways."

"_And do you think they're wrong? I mean, if it's appearing in your dreams now…." _

'Getting back on topic,' Spencer though. 'Very sneaky.' The younger man fidgeted in his chair, trying his best to buy as much time as possible before approaching the subject again. His eyes glanced up at the clock, though, and he realized they were running out of time. Enough was enough; it was time for him to be a man and just spit it out. "When you woke me up at my desk yesterday I freaked out because I was having one of those dreams again," he finally admitted. Then, in a more quiet voice he added, "On the mirror, though, wasn't a memory."

"_What did you see?"_

"It wasn't a flashback; it was more like a flash forward," he started grimly. "It was of me, and I was sitting next to my mother in the sanitarium. She-her condition was worse and mine was progressively getting worse too. The BAU team came to visit me, but I didn't recognize anyone. Garcia went to hug me and I started freaking out. The nurses came and made you leave….." Spencer looked up sadly with his lip pouted out and his eyes red from exhaustion. "I can't let that happen, Hotch."

The section leader couldn't help but mimic the sad expression. Reid was a good person, and he didn't deserve the shit he had to deal with. He had to help him as much as he possibly could…..

"Will you promise me something?" Reid suddenly frowned.

"You know I can't promise you anything without knowing what it is," Hotch sighed.

"You're my power of attorney if something happens to me. And if I do become schizophrenic-"

"Then your wishes will be clearly documented if that happens," Hotch glared. "I know you're afraid, Reid, but you have five people on this team alone who will be looking out for you. The minute we notice something change in you we'll take care of it. In the meantime, why don't you visit some of your other friends? Go see New York City; visit Ethan or JJ or your Dad….The team is your family, Reid, but we want you to know that we're not the only people in the world who care about you," Hotch added with a frown. "Maybe getting away will help clear your mind."

"I know Hotch," Spencer smiled sadly. "It's so hard to sometimes, you know?"

"Take someone with you," Hotch suggested. "I'm sure someone on the team would love to go with you-"

A knock on the door effectively silenced both men. Their heads turned when they saw a red-headed figure bob up and down. A smile graced Spencer's face as Hotch motioned for her to come in.

"Sorry to interrupt, sir," Garcia said as she walked in. She stopped and frowned when she saw Reid, though. "Um, is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine Garcia," Spencer nodded.

"So what did you need?" Hotch said at the same time.

Garcia blinked at first before continuing. Something strange was in fact going on, but she had the feeling she'd never know what exactly it was… "We have a case."

"We'll be there in a minute, thank you."

"It's no problem, sir." With a curt nod she headed out the door.

Spencer and Hotch exchanged a slight glance at each other before they stood up. "Are you okay, Reid?" Hotch asked. "No one would think less of you if you'd like to take some time off-"

"No, not yet," Spencer shook his head. "I want to finish this case and see how things go. Then, if I'm still having the headaches and that dream, I'll go visit New York," he smiled, "and maybe Garcia could come with me."

"I think that's a good plan," Hotch nodded.

"Yeah," Spencer grinned, "me too. Now come on, we have a case."

~*BOR*~


End file.
